Fidgets…
I am so many people, in only one body - Always trying to be heard over the noise, noise, noise. Fold my hands, put them in my pockets, talk with them out loud. I never could figure out what to do with them when I’m nervous, or cold, or just plain scared. Do I seem normal to you? What is normal? I don’t think I know anymore, or maybe, just don’t care anymore. It doesn’t really matter. Sometimes I wish I were tongue tied, fastly bound, completely mute. Because then, I’d have to try really hard to say anything - instead of just letting everything fall out without thinking. I am I am Iam unable to finish that sentiment, for lack of an ability to sit still in the dark. Poem found in a notebook from college, written somewhere between 2003-2007.
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